Delirious
by brakken
Summary: A short one-shot, set after the Boiling Rock episodes, so spoiler warnings. Zuko gets sick, Katara as designated healer must help him. In the process, Katara says some interesting things...Or was it all in Zuko's delirious mind? Read to find out.


**Delirious**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of Avatar; they belong to the esteemed Mike and Bryan, Nickelodeon, Viacom, and possibly others. Practically anyone other than me really. So don't sue!

* * *

"Sifu hotman, you look, well, really hot right now…"

The pounding headache wasn't bad enough; now he had to deal with the Avatar's silly and stupid concern. His irritation sky-rocketed.

"Don't call me that! And of course I look hot-I'm a firebender, what do you expect?! Get back to your exercises!" was Zuko's angry reply.

"Uhh…Zuko? Aang's right, you do look too hot-even for firebending. You ok?" Sokka dared to ask.

"I'm fine! Why are you all looking at me like that?! There's nothing wrong with me, I swear! And I don't need any more of your jasmine tea Uncle!"

"That's it. He's lost it. Toph, can you restrain him? Knowing him he won't take bed rest easily…" Sokka tried to keep his voice down as he spoke to the others. It was in vain.

"What do you mean bed rest-I'm fine, isn't that cl-mmph!" Zuko's exclamation was cut short as earth surrounded his feet and a small, surprisingly strong hand covered his mouth.

"Let's just get you inside, ok? Katara will have a look at you as soon as she gets back with the others from that hunting expedition." Toph murmured soothingly.

Zuko was not comforted, however; somehow, in his state, he construed that it was fire-nation guards restraining him, rather than well-meaning friends. Violently he struggled against his bonds, until, with a drawn out sigh, Toph knocked him out cold.

"You never could do things the easy way, could you?" was the last thing he heard before he blacked out.

* * *

Zuko was torn, tossed, thrown to all sides, buffeted by flame and waves and wind alike, all searing hot. He struggled to move, to escape-but earth bound him, steel snapped about his wrists in a vice he could not break. Furiously, he pulled and strove; panting, he tried to bend his way free-why couldn't he crack the clay about his ankles? Why couldn't he meld away the metal from his hands? All to no avail; he could not move. Exhausted, he hung, limp, damp, and thirsty and hungry and nauseous and burning, always burning, all at once. In the moment he finally realized that he was in a dream, he blacked out again.

* * *

Aang stared, wide-eyed in worry at his new friend as he thrashed and sweated in the bedding. There was nothing he could do now, but pray that Katara reached them soon.

* * *

"Where is he? In the room? How is he? That bad huh."

Swiftly Katara strode in to look over her patient; she couldn't help but wince a moment at his state. Professional manner back in place, she gave crisp orders to those lingering in the doorway and outside of the room; quickly they ran off to complete them.

Once they were alone, Katara allowed herself to _really_ look at the prone form at her feet. He exuded heat, to make the room almost stifling; a difficult feat in a drafty air temple, especially a ruin. Despite the true temperature of his body, and the shimmering, sickly sheen of sweat that proved it, chills swept through his frame from head to toe. Tangled in blankets, he twisted and rolled and tensed, making further knots of his sheets, further bonds in his own mind. His breath heaved, loud and obnoxious, although thankfully clear; her relief at the lack of obstruction was mitigated by the darting expressions of agony and frustration that twisted his flushed face.

Her own face filled with any good healer's pity, she slowly walked forward, bending down to straighten the covers, but no more. She still burned from his betrayal, and all the months of fighting and being hunted; and the fear and anger his face inspired had yet to fade for her. He was necessary, true, so she would heal him. But he was no friend of hers, and she would not offer him any more comfort than he deserved.

Or so she thought.

Her thoughts were interrupted as her 'assistants' returned with their various bundles and tools; her face seamlessly shifted back into its earlier detached expression to deal with them, none the wiser of her reverie. Swiftly she dealt with their possessions-and just as quickly she sent them away altogether; their peanut gallery of concerns and suggestions was not exactly conducive to a good working environment. When silence finally reigned again, Katara allowed herself a moment to roll her eyes at their childishness and take a deep breath before she began in earnest.

With expression stubbornly stoic, she turned to her 'patient' (what she insisted on labeling him) and began the arduous task of bringing down his raging fever.

Slowly, as the time wore on, her detachment deteriorated; it wasn't long after that her calm façade of a face fell into frustration; her voice soon followed.

"I can't believe I'm stuck taking care of you…after all you've done to us since we met you…it's absolutely ridiculous, you know that? Absolutely ridiculous…" she grumbled as she wiped his brow for what felt like the millionth time.

He replied with a small moan; she decided to take it personally.

"Don't you dare moan at me, with all I'm doing for you right now…If Aang didn't need a fire-bending teacher so bad, I wouldn't be touching you with anything other than my water whip!" she ranted, a little louder; luckily her companions were out trying to get some of the herbs she'd asked for, so none heard her.

"I mean it too! Even if you _had_ tried to free your uncle and go back on your father and your country, I still wouldn't have helped you!" Hearing her own words, she fought away the guilt and understanding that threatened to overcome her bitterness with tooth and nail, and every bad memory she could think of.

"Because it doesn't add up! You've been chasing after us for years, even when your father and country hated you anyway-even when he sent your own sister out to hunt for you, you never stopped going after Aang and the rest of us first!"

"Look Azula! The butterflies! They're dancing-but don't let Uncle Iroh join!" he gasped, voice husky with thirst, lost in his own world.

"And there's another thing! After all your sister and father and the fire nation put you through, and all uncle did for you, you still betrayed him, and us!"

She paused as her fingers brushed against his scar-and couldn't hide her wince as he groaned in pain. She pulled back her fingers as though they'd been burned themselves, reflexively slipping them into a bowl of water. In a way, they had. In a softer (but no less bitter) tone, she continued.

"I will never understand you Zuko…Your own father did this to you," she gestured, but did not touch the scarlet flesh. "And I offered to heal it…And yet you still chose to betray us all."

Gently, she rested her now glowing hands against his forehead, neck, and chest, trying to cool the heat that consumed him.

"And then, when your conscience finally caught up with you, you betrayed them and came to us…I guess it's no wonder I don't trust you; who would, with your record? I don't understand how the others do…" her voice was barely more than a murmur now, her anger spent, her insecurities freed by the silence.

"I know Aang says you've changed, but have you? Really? Aang may be the Avatar, but that doesn't mean he isn't a kid as well, and prone to thinking the best of people who don't deserve it...

"Toph believes you; but she wasn't with us the entire time; she didn't go through what we did. She remembers Azula as her enemy, not you. And besides-she was already friends with your uncle to begin with, wasn't she? I've got nothing against Iroh, but he is soft where you're concerned, and there's nothing that says that he didn't soften her to you too.

"Sokka trusts you now, thinks of you as a friend after helping our father escape the Boiling Rock-but was that your real reason to go? I know you saw your girlfriend there; what's to say that wasn't your real objective? Sokka felt so bad about father, it's no wonder he trusts you now, doesn't question your actions.

"But I wasn't there; can I? Can I really ever trust you after all you've done Zuko? I don't know…I don't know…"

After a moment, she shook her head, a small wry smile gracing her features.

"Listen to me, ranting like this to you…It's not like you can hear me anyway…You're delirious, aren't you. Completely and utterly delirious. I wouldn't be surprised if you started begging me to shave your head; there's not a logical thought in your mind right now."

Sighing, she was caught up again in her fears; and now that she had assured herself that he couldn't hear, she lost herself in her ramble once again.

"I don't know why…I'll never know why…But I think I really do trust you now…I know I want to…"

As she dropped her hands to gather more water, she shook her head, more violently this time. Raising them up again, she said: "I know I shouldn't; and part of me doesn't trust you, or even like_ or_ respect you any farther than I can throw you. But the other part of me…"

She sighed, blushing a little. "The other part of me does trust you…and respect you…it even likes you, I'll never know why. It likes you a lot…"

Her blush deepened as she involuntarily brushed some of his damp hair out of his eyes; looking down to her work again as quickly as she did, she missed the flicker of one eyelid.

"It, well…It admires your courage, to have come to our side after it all…It remembers how you were in that cave, what you said, and it sympathizes with you-I guess that's where it started, when it was born, in that cave, seeing a different side of you. It was the part of me that would have healed your scar-but I thought it had died after you betrayed us…

"But it didn't die; it's still here, part of me, growing every day…" she added after a slight pause.

Glancing up into his still face again, her blush returned.

"I…I don't know how it got to be so big…Sometimes," she licked her lips nervously, "I look at you, and I don't remember any of the bad things, only the good…I look at you, and all I can think of is how strong you are, to have come so far, and…and how strong you must be by your looks…

"It's like this haze comes over me, and all I see is you…It's so strange; I never ask for it. I never asked to feel this way, ever! It just…happened….And now…Oh, you'd never think of me that way anyway; you have your dear Mei, why would you need someone else? It's not like it matters to me, at all, you hear me?" she glared heatedly at him for a moment, tensed, ready to defend and deny anything swung her way.

The quiet and his still face calmed her; she relaxed, and looking away whispered: "But you're not hearing anything right now, are you…Thank all the spirits for that…"

Getting her confidence back, she darted a shy look in his direction; her mind had fallen under that haze yet again, but this time…This time there was no one else, just the two of them…

After a quick look around to make sure no one was near after all, she slowly lowered her face to his, shyly closed her eyes, and softly brought her lips against his.

Hearing a sound from outside, Katara lurched away, cheeks flaming, eyes flashing in denial. The telltale skitter on the path told her that Aang had come to check on his sifu's progress; swiftly she composed herself, regaining the blank stoicism of an hour before with not too much difficulty.

In her haste, she missed the startled, wide eyes of her patient-and when she looked in his direction again, Aang at her side, he made sure to seem asleep.

* * *

A few hours later, Zuko sat around the fire with the rest of them, contemplating his feverish visions. He remembered the first ones-full of hot, tight, close chambers and prisons and platforms, struggles and vices, damp and sweat and salt and thirst. But later, a coolness had spread through him, and with it, (he had thought at the time) lucidity; he had kept his eyes closed, hoping this dream of comfort and the rise and fall of a beautiful voice would stay for a while. Slowly, the melody of the sounds separated into words…And slowly, they began to make some sense, if not much. He recognized the voice after what seemed like an eternity, when it grew angry-the way he was used to hearing it-but it couldn't have been her, could it?

The owner of the voice had (he gulped) kissed him; and she had made it clear from the start that she did nothing for him beyond the absolutely necessary; and only then, it was with the Avatar's begging. He shook his head; he'd been delirious, it was clear, from start to finish. If his delirium hadn't been entirely painful, then so be it; it didn't make any of it true.

But still…It had felt so real…He dared a glance in her direction-the blush dusting her cheeks as she quickly looked away left him startled, and, in a word, delirious.

Maybe it wasn't a dream after all…

* * *

**A/N:** A commission (might as well call it that, although my only payment will probably be one less jabbering phone call tomorrow) for my imouto-chan: awesomenesslyangelic.

Darn girl, making me write that long, long, name…The plot is pretty much hers, so I give her that credit, and the motivation was all her; if she hadn't bugged me about the thing I never would have done it in the first place. Hope _she_ enjoyed it at least…


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